by Karen Colohan

Stray scraps of hay prickle Lex's scalp as he's pushed down, Clark's weight stretching out on top of him. The rough blanket underneath him scratches where it catches on his sweaty skin.

They're making out in the back of the Kents' truck, naked under the wide Kansas sky. It's as far from anything he's used to as Lex can imagine, but Clark assures him he hasn't lived until he's experienced this. It's on the tip of Lex's tongue to ask how he knows, but Clark's mouth steals the words, unspoken.

When he comes, spilling hot against Clark's stomach, Lex believes him.

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